


Scenes from Sub-Light

by Falcon_Etti



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Fear, Fluff and Humor, Grief/Mourning, Past Relationship(s), Relationship hiccups, Sexual Content, Swearing, Trip to Bespin (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon_Etti/pseuds/Falcon_Etti
Summary: Scenes between Leia and Han on the way to Bespin -- from their first morning (after their first time) to landing on Cloud City. Tries to cover the growth, occasional stumble, of their relationship as they learn how to be in love.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Finding a New Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning how to navigate their new relationship, trying to lower a few of their walls.

Leia decided to commit herself to these days on the Falcon. She wasn’t sure how to go ‘all in’, as he liked to put it, but would do her best to not protect or close herself off. 

“I’m going to treat it like an experiment,” she said. They were standing in the lounge on their first morning together after, well, being together. She held her cup of kaffe with both hands, realizing this was her attempt to simulate the pose of a calm and reserved person. She was making a lot of this up as she went along. 

She would never have this amount of time, in such a concentrated form, to focus on a relationship, on him, on whatever they are or might become. They were trapped on this ship for weeks and that looked endless at the beginning but was, in fact, a finite number of days. Her experiment had an end date. There was an escape route if she needed it. Eventually, they would land. 

“So, you’re going to commit to trying this by—what did you say, being present?” 

She nodded, sipping her kaffe, still holding it with two hands.

“You can be present, commit to being together, so long as you know you only have to do it for a specific number of days.” His hands were on her shoulders. He gazed down, scrutinizing her face. 

“It sounds a bit colder than I intended when I hear it said back to me.” She suddenly felt a bit shy about it all again. Maybe she was faltering a bit in her plan. 

“If that’s what it takes—you turning it into a project—I’ll take it.” Han kissed her forehead, nose, then lips. It was his latest ritual, his way saying good morning, good night, thanks, I’m listening. 

Han had more confidence jumping into it. He was stumbling a bit as he learned how to navigate being with her and not fall back into his old habits of distraction and deflection but he didn’t question the being there part. He also wasn’t put off by her mix of ‘all in’ then ‘all out’ mentality. He seemed to think she’d be convinced soon enough. 

“You’ll see.” He took a sip from her cup. “You’re gonna wonder how you ever managed without me.” 

It surprised both of them how quickly they fell into a new routine. Han worked with Chewie on repairs, following the loose schedule they set for themselves, and Leia helped when she could. She didn’t handle major jobs on her own but completed lots of smaller tasks to help them along. For everyone’s sanity, Threepio was largely left powered-down unless they needed him to help with diagnostics. 

The work progressed slowly, however, and often in chunks with long pauses in between as Han and Leia disappeared, sometimes several times, throughout the day. They might be working together in the engine room and an accidental touch of the arm sent them out of the room. Or she was sitting beside him, passing him tools, and the sound of her voice caused him to pull her into a cargo hold or the cockpit. Or maybe she simply walked past, gave him a quick look, and he dropped whatever he was doing to follow her into their cabin. 

Almost all of Leia’s past sexual experience was of the non-committal, probably isn’t going to happen again variety. (She fully recognized that the ‘finite’ theme was a common coping mechanism for her.) It was different with Kier but she had been so young and who knows where that would have gone. She had always enjoyed herself, felt in charge, satisfied, but, if she was being honest, maybe it wasn’t that different than pleasuring herself. Masturbation also had the edge considering there were less complications and pretending you would talk later. 

It wasn’t working out that way with Han. Very quickly, she learned how, then didn’t look back, to let herself go. The first time she experienced complete release during an orgasm was a revelation. That she was capable of experiencing something so intense, that she should bring it out in someone else. So, that part of the experiment was going very well. 

There was still a considerable amount of time when they weren’t locked away together and there were only so many repairs she could assist with or tools to hand off. Leia wasn’t used to downtime and without Alliance work to keep her busy she was feeling antsy.

The Falcon, a freighter modified with even more storage for smuggling, was a ship of cupboards, crawlspaces and hidden compartments. Even Han admitted he didn’t know what was tucked away. He was interested in boosting the Falcon’s power (or just keeping her running, as the case may be) and if anything was shoved somewhere, it was likely long forgotten. 

In the space between the lounge and the front cargo hold, Leia found containers shoved to the back behind random engine parts and tools that looked in need of their own repair. She dragged the boxes into the lounge and pried off the lids. Sitting on the floor she started pulling things out. 

“Snooping?” He was suddenly beside her. He smiled at her slight jump at the sound of his voice. 

“Bored. I need something to do. You and Chewie have repairs, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’m losing my mind.” She stopped to look at him. “You said I had free reign to look around.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” He gave her a lopsided grin and crouched beside her. “What’s in there anyway?” 

She looked at the first few items. “Ancient datapads. A commlink that’s older than me.”

“Huh. Maybe we could use those. Threepio!” How was it the droid was never there when you actually wanted him? 

Leia pulled out two crudely carved fingers. They were wood and looked like misshapen people. Humanoid, anyway. “And these.”

He was quiet for a moment while he looked them over.

Threepio tottered around the corner. “Yes, Captain Solo?” 

Leia handed him the datapads and asked if he could retrieve any information. The droid took them to the engineering station to investigate. 

“These were from Aleena. She used to leave them in our pockets or bags.” He sounded far away, like he was lost in remembering. “I think it was so we’d remember her but maybe they’re cursed? Coulda gone either way. She was a serious kid.” 

Aleena was one of the people who popped up in Han’s stories now and then. Her mother worked in the kitchen of a hotel that Han and Chewie frequented. Knowing kitchen staff was one of Han’s survival techniques. Get to know the people with the food, preferably in a room that was warm. Aleena was almost always there when they visited. For several years, Han got in the habit of bringing her something, a toy or a treat of some sort, and answering her questions about the outside world. Then, when she was about twelve, and they stopped by the kitchen for a visit and a meal, Aleena and her mother were gone. 

Han didn’t talk about his past very much but over the years they’d known each other he’d shared more and more with Leia. He was careful how much he revealed and she was always touched that he trusted her enough to share at all. Now, trying out this new relationship (or whatever it was they wanted to call this concentrated, removed from reality, time together), he was doing his best to talk and trust more. Still slow going but she recognized the effort. 

“I think they’re smiling so let’s go with sweet.” Leia got a good feeling from the carvings. They felt positive to her. 

“When I was a kid, and someone came from anywhere, I’d want every wild story. Races, escapes, ships, battles, anything. But she wanted specific info. Where did I find that piece to fix the power coupling? Did I think I got a good price for it?”

It actually wasn’t hard to picture Han as a boy. All of things that must have kept him going, kept him alive on the streets and in and out of various homes and crime dens, are what got him through every scrape and battle and card game gone wrong as an adult. He never lost the belief that’s there’s always a way out. You just had to keep your eyes and ears open. He could be negative about a situation, fight and argue against every suggestion, but he was never defeated. She didn’t want to see the day when he didn’t see a crack he could push through. 

“Do you want me to stop going through this stuff?” 

He sat down behind her, stretching his long legs on either side of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “No. No secrets here.” He kissed her neck. “I might not want to talk about it but you can look.”

“You know I’m going to ask questions.” She smiled and turned to kiss him. 

“I know.” He was half paying attention, stroking her arm, tracing her ear, kissing her temple, as she rooted through the boxes. 

She pulled out a couple holocubes—one of Chewie’s family that he was happy to retrieve, another of a speeder bike. 

Han looked it over. “Yeah, that was a bike I used to race. Won a lot with that one.” 

“No pictures of you? Nothing from the winner’s circle?” 

He shrugged. “Guess not.” 

“Was this on Corellia?” 

He nodded and continued to play with her hair. 

“So, you took and saved a picture of a speeder bike but none of people?” 

“The holo was a gift.”

“Who gave you the gift?” 

“Qi’ra.” He looked at her to gauge her reaction. 

She laughed, gave him a bright, open smile. “Ah, so you’re sentimental about the holo because of who gave it to you not because of the bike.”

“Not so sentimental. I forgot I even had it.” 

“But didn’t throw it out, either.” She gave him soft, warm kiss with her hand on his cheek. “You know, we could save a lot of time if you simply provided the information up front.”

She pulled out some holovid chips. She held them up so he could read the titles. 

“Yup. That’s porn.” 

She stuffed the chips into his vest pocket. 

Threepio called from his station. “I’ve found something! There are a number of items installed.” He handed Leia one of the datapads. She looked through the menu and found several pulp novels, games and holovids pre-installed. 

“Those aren’t mine. Someone left them?” He looked at Chewie.

[No. That was all you. Extra payment.]

“Right. That sounds kinda familiar.” He turned back to Leia. “We worked for this guy who was moving goods, like personal electronics, and I’m guessing we kept a few.” 

“There can’t be much resale value for a couple of cheap datapads.” 

“It was probably more of an asshole move. Didn’t like what I was paid. Skimmed off the top.” There was that grin. “Anyway. You’ve got something to read now. So, it was all worth it.” 

She pulled out a camera. It didn’t turn on—the battery must be long dead—but there still a datacard installed. “What do you think we’ll find on here?”

He sat up straighter and a look of concern flashed across his face. “I don’t know.” 

“Feeling nervous?” She held the card in the datapad slot. “Should I do this?”

He gave a small shake of his head, like he couldn’t believe he was going to let this happen. “Okay. But you gotta promise you’re not gonna get mad if you find something you don’t like.”

“I will make no such promise.”

He laughed and gave a ‘go ahead’ nod. A thumbnail gallery of a couple dozen holos popped up on the datapad screen. 

“Shall we start at the beginning?” She was excited about this venture. He was letting her explore bits of his past, risking what she might see or find. She tried not to smile, to not seem quite so obvious, but she couldn’t stop the slight grin as she looked at him then back at the datapad. 

So, it was a bit disappointing that the first few holos were of a building taken from various angles. 

“Guess we were casing it,” he said. “Or looking for someone.” 

“I’m going to be mad if they’re all like this. Or you’re going to have to start making up better stories.” 

Then there was a picture of Han posing in front of the building. He looked a few years younger than when they met. He was wearing the same blood stripe pants, blaster low on his thigh, and vest and a pullover shirt. His hands were on his hips and he was smiling for the camera. 

“Fake tourist shots. Needed a reason to take so many pics.” 

“Well, I’m keeping that one. Only proof of life before we met.” 

“Sweetheart, there wasn’t a time before we met. It all started with you.” He kissed her neck. 

“I think you’re trying for sweet but sounds more like you have short-term memory issues.” 

“Selective memory. Important difference.” 

She looked at the holo more closely. “Wait. Is that the shirt I’m wearing right now?”

Chewie chuckled. [This is what happens when you only own four shirts.]

There were a few more fake tourist shots and of the building. One of the Falcon, showing off new shields that were, apparently, the first big modification they could afford and were very proud of, and a few out of focus shots of the ground and a hairy paw accidentally caught in front of the lens. Then things got interesting. 

“Aha!” Leia almost shouted. “Who might this be?” 

The woman was sitting on the bench in the lounge, turned slightly to face the camera. Han must have been sitting right next to her when he took the shot. Her blond, almost dyed white, hair fell in waves around her shoulders. A slight smile and rather intense blue eyes, along with a shirt unbuttoned below her chest, combined to create what Leia assumed was a ‘come hither’ look. The angle of the shot and the way she was sitting (and most likely how and why the holo was taken in the first place) meant one of her breasts was almost exposed, her lacy bra and top of her nipple clearly visible. 

[Who is it?]

“Cora.” Han tried take the datapad but Leia clutched it to her chest. 

“Hey, no secrets. Remember?” She was playfully taunting him. 

“My secrets are one thing. Can’t show you Cora’s.”

“That’s fair.” She handed him the datapad. 

She honestly wasn’t bothered by seeing one of his past lovers but she did have a flash of concern about what Han might enjoy or prefer. Part of the allure of the holo, and maybe of Cora, was the sexy lingerie, the barely-there bra. It was hard to believe it could be as enticing to see her in her Alliance issued undergarments and tank tops. Eventually he was going to want something more exciting or fun. Maybe the finiteness of their time together was a good thing in that regard. He wouldn’t get tired of her and her only wears white, feels guilty about taking anything for herself, doesn’t own anything that might remotely be considered sexy, ways. 

“Who is Cora?” She was looking through the box again, pushing aside less interesting items. 

“She worked at a machine shop on Dantooine.” He was leaning back, holding the datapad where she couldn’t see as he swiped through holos, occasionally giving a low grunt of recognition. “Probably still does.”

“Don’t delete the one of you! I’m serious, Flyboy.” She looked over her shoulder at him. Gave him a stern, you better listen to me, look. 

“You got the real deal. Why’d you want a holo?” 

“Don’t delete it.” She turned back to the box. She didn’t want to talk about it right now and he knew it wasn’t time to ask more. Instead, she switched topics again. 

“How long were you and Cora together?” 

“Not like that. It was a now and then thing. If I was there and she was free kind of thing.”

He handed the datapad back. The only remaining photo was the one of him standing, smiling, in front of the building. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and pretended to bite her shoulder. 

“What about these?” She opened up a bag with a drawstring. She pulled out a handful of coins, an old chrono that looked broken, and a ring. 

“Huh, look at that,” he picked up some of the coins. “I won these in a game. Did I?” He looked to Chewie, clearly relying on the Wookie’s memory for these things. 

[No. That was the summer house job.]

“Right, right.” Han nodded. “This old guy paid us to pick stuff from his summer place and fly it to Coruscant.” 

[There’s more to the story, Princess. Don’t let him stop there.]

Leia nudged Han with her elbow. As long as Chewie spoke slowly, which he always tried to do with her, she could understand most of what he said. 

“Cut me a break. I was new to it.” She was looking at him, waiting not so patiently, for him to continue. “It wasn’t his summer place. It was his ex-wife’s place. So, basically, we stole all her furniture.” 

[Keep going.]

“Fine.” Han’s voice was almost a grumble now. “I thought we were getting a real deal. Easy work for okay pay and a bunch of stuff we could resell and make our fortune. Sold most of the coins but the rest is worthless.” 

“But you kept it?” 

“Reminder to never accept anything but actual credits that cover the job.” He nudged her. “Stuck to that plan ‘til I signed on to a job with some old man and a kid who promised payment they didn’t have.” 

“I hope you were repaid for your kindness.” 

“Took a while but, yeah, it’s working out.” 

Leia looked through the riches. The coins might be worth something. They were so long out of circulation that someone might pay to add to a collection. She tried on the ring—it was far too large for her—probably too large for Han. It looked like cheap metal. Han must have been very young (or naïve or desperate) to think this was worth anything. 

“What does the inscription say?” She handed him the ring so he could see the engraving inside the band. 

He shrugged. “Don’t even know what language. Hey, Goldenrod. Can you read this?”

Threepio took the ring to look inside. 

“Oh, it’s a dialect common on Ryloth, though I think this phrase is slightly more colloquial.” Everyone looked at him, waiting for the reveal. Han waved his hand, indicating that Threepio should hurry it up. “It reads, Long is hope. Hope is longing.”

“That’s actually beautiful.” Leia took the ring back. “Maybe a bit sad but beautiful.” 

“You should keep it.” 

“You’re giving me a ring?”

“Well, it’s A ring.” He realized, maybe a bit too late, that he should play this more casual. It was a spur of the moment decision because he suddenly realized he wanted her to have something to remember him in case he couldn’t get back from Jabba’s and repaying his debt. And like the figures Aleen left for them, he wasn’t sure if this was sweet or cursed. 

She smiled at him. “Okay, Hot Shot, don’t be too romantic. Wouldn’t want it to go to my head.” 

His mind was suddenly swirling. He wanted to be romantic. He wanted to shower her in… What? What would she want? Even if he could, flowers seemed like a ridiculous gesture. She was a princess, sure, but he’d only known her on bases and on ships, and flowers were impractical and something you had to clean up later. If they weren’t at war, if they were together in the real world, would she want all those romantic tropes? Could he give her what she wanted when there were more options than canned foods and ration bars? He didn’t have that answer. The only thing he knew was that he wanted her to be happy and he wanted to be the one to make her happy. 

“I could give you one of Aleen’s guys, if you prefer.” 

“Thanks. I’ll stick with the ring.”

He stood up and held out a hand to help her up. “We done here?” 

“What do you want to do with all this stuff?” 

“Put it back.” He started tossing things back into the boxes, including the holocube of the speeder bike and bag of old coins. 

“That’s it? No more memory lane?” 

“No point looking back, Sweetheart. Everything we want is straight ahead.” 

“You say that like it’s sage advice but I know you’re avoiding the topic.” 

He tossed the camera at Chewie then grabbed her hand again. “C’mon.” He pulled her out of the lounge. “I have a few probing questions for you.” 

She laughed as she let herself be pulled back to their cabin. He walked backwards while still holding her hand and she couldn’t resist biting her lip while watching him. 

She left the ring on the shelf beside their bunk where it sat for most of the trip. Sometimes she played with it, letting it twirl around her finger, while they talked. But mostly, it stayed where both of them could see it. A gesture that may or may not have been romantic but definitely was a reminder that hope wasn’t completely out of the question.


	2. Taking Aim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some friendly competition.

Chewie stood in the entranceway with a look of frustration. 

[You’re cleaning up this mess.]

“Calm down, Dad. There’s no mess.” 

Han was leaning back in the chair with his feet resting on the engineering station. She was taking aim. When she lobbed the nut in his direction he twisted slightly and caught it in his mouth. Leia cheered.

[You’ll wish you had them in three weeks when rations are low.]

“Yeah, yeah.” He took a nut from the bag in his lap. “Ready?” 

“Let’s go.” Leia looked serious, preparing herself for the big game. She sat up straight in the chair with her hands gripping the arm rests like that would ensure success. She tried the same swivel but the nut hit her on the forehead. 

Han threw his head back, laughing, and almost fell back off his chair. “You’re waiting too long. Just let it come for you. React right at the end.” 

“Or maybe I’m a better shot.” 

Chewie growled. [This is too painful to watch.] He left the lounge, heading to the cockpit. 

“See, Chewie agrees with me.” She pointed at the Wookie like that was definitive proof. 

“He wasn’t complimenting you, Princess.” 

“You have your version, I have mine.” 

“C’mon, Sure Shot,” he said. “You’re wasting time.” 

Han leaned back again, prepping for her next throw. She pitched another nut and he caught it, this time almost tumbling off his chair. 

She laughed so hard she wasn’t making a sound. Doubled over, tears. He put his feet back on the table and leaned back, slowly chewing the nut like it was a victory lap. 

His raised his hand again. “Get ready. Cos it’s coming.” 

She straightened herself out and sat up in her chair. “Ready.” 

The nut arced through the air and this time she caught it. She jumped up, arms raised above her head. 

“Perfect form!” Han clapped. 

She bowed. Pretended she was bowing to a crowd, utilising all her long years of training as a royal. 

“And now,” she maintained the regal posturing, announcing a decree to her loyal subjects. “I am walking away the winner.” 

“THE winner?” He scoffed. “You got one.” 

“The last one,” she corrected him. “The one everyone will remember.” 

“Right. History is written by the victors.” 

She gives him a knowing nod. “You get it, Flyboy. And now, you get to watch me walk away.” 

She headed toward the corridor, gently touching his shoulder as passed him. She sauntered, hips swaying, out of the room. 

Han was considering following her when Chewie called from the cockpit. [Don’t even think about it.]

“It’s alright,” he shouted back. “Just need to…”

[Now, Flyboy! The sensor lights aren’t going to fix themselves.]

Han reluctantly followed his co-pilot into the cockpit.


	3. Acts of Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia learns a few more things about Han's past and the things he still isn't willing to share.

“They don’t want to risk their star Rebel. No one wants to be responsible for the last princess of Alderaan’s demise.” Han didn’t have much time for High Command, especially when it came to their treatment of Leia. “They need to parade you around when this is over.”

“Hard to imagine the war ever being over. What would I do then? Go back to politics, I guess.”

Han was stretched low in the pilot’s seat, elbows on arm rests, hands laced together over his stomach. Leia was perched in the co-pilot’s chair, knees up, head resting back. They came to the cockpit to enjoy a drink after dinner and sit in the quiet among the stars. 

“And live in an apartment again? No more tents and temporary bases. Sudden evacuations. Leaving everything behind. I know my life before the war was extreme by most standards but I almost can’t remember the feeling of having a permanent place to call home.” 

“This is all normal for me.” He picked up his glass from the console, took a sip of whisky and passed it to Leia. “Only known temporary. Never had any place to go back to.” 

“Not even when you were young?” 

“Yeah. There was a place with my folks, my dad, but not really where you wanted to go back to. More a place to escape.” 

“Do remember much about your mother?”

Han shook his head. “Remember she was nice.” He stroked his chin, his lost in thought tell. “Think she had a soft voice. That she felt… I don’t know. Maybe none of it was real. Might have just made that stuff up when I was a kid and now it’s a memory. That happens.” 

“What about your father? Do you remember him?” 

“Try not to.” 

He took back the glass and held it in his lap. 

“Never had a real planet-side place.” He propped his feet up on the console. “Care homes, alleys, a bunk as long as I brought in enough loot. Got through that one cos I had Qi’ra but it still smelled like actual shit. Definitely not a place you wanted to go back to but not a lot of choice.”

“It doesn’t sound safe or sanitary.” 

“Qi’ra got real sick once, think it was bad water cos lots of kids were sick, and they wouldn’t get meds. Guess they figured meds cost more than she earned.” He turned to look at Leia with a crooked smile. “But that’s when I figured out how to hotwire a speeder. Sold it. Got enough credits. It was a good side gig for a while. Stole speeders, bikes, whatever. Learned to strip something for parts. Got extra food, kept a supply of meds, blankets, whatever was going.” 

“Did you sell the medicine? The food?” 

“Sell for what?” He gave her an ‘are you kidding with this stuff’ look. “Nobody had anything. And it was good for me if everyone wasn’t so fucking sick or hungry around me. Desperation is dangerous.” 

“So, you gave away food and medicine and blankets because it was in your best interest?” 

He shrugged. 

“But some little shit must‘ve ratted on me. Proxima was pissed I was stock piling, running jobs and not sharing profits. Didn’t matter that I did all the work, took the risks. Supposed to be fucking grateful cos we weren’t sleeping on the streets and maybe got some shit food sometimes.”

He was doing that thing she couldn’t quite understand. Talking about a childhood that sounded like trauma to her but he acted unaffected.

“If you won a race, could you keep that?” 

“Just the glory.” He went back to staring out at the stars. “We weren’t slaves but they owned us.” 

“What happened? When they found out.” 

“How I got some of the scars on my back.” 

“Some?” 

He shifted in his seat. “Anyway. The Academy was the first time I had three square and an actual bed. And that definitely wasn’t home.”

Leia wanted to crawl into his lap, say I love you (because that was the truth whether or not she found the words) but knew acknowledging his vulnerability was touchy. Luke was so comfortable saying he was sad or nervous or upset. She could react to him, comfort him, whatever was needed. Han got his back up. He quickly reverted to his tough guy stance when he felt emotions rise to the surface. 

He noticed her looking at him, saw the sympathy in her eyes.

“Don’t get all soft on me, Princess. Lived a lifetime since then. Almost never think about it ‘cept when you ask questions.” 

The first time Leia heard the name Proxima, they were on a fuel stop. She thought a man hanging around the Falcon was begging for food or trying to steal something. Han’s reaction, his body language, was so defensive. She surprised when she heard the man offer to buy him a drink. 

“You knew me at Proxima’s. Younger than you but...”

As soon as Han realized she was beside him, he tried to block the man. Told him he had to leave, almost shouting. “I don’t know you, pal. Move on. You got no business here.”

Leia protested Han’s treatment of the man. They should listen to people, maybe they’d learn important information. 

“We’re outta here!” His hand on her back, he steered her back up the Falcon’s ramp. 

She was put off by his strange behaviour—accused him of hiding things, being rude, endangering their mission—at the time. Now, sitting in the cockpit and listening to his stories of unacknowledged and dismissed acts of kindness, she wondered if that man was trying to thank him. But Han pushed him aside, got her out of earshot. He didn’t want Leia to hear this man’s version of events. 

Han bragged about bar fights, races, shoot outs, women (though never to her), flying skills, smuggling jobs, near death escapes, ridiculous escapades. But in all the years she’d known him, he never mentioned sticking his neck out for someone that didn’t involve a hefty payment. Anything that might suggest he cared about anyone other than himself. He was an egotistical, overly confident braggart who believed any chip in that veneer, any perceived or exposed vulnerability, would bring everything down. 

He didn’t even like to talk about Chewie—whatever happened to earn the Wookie’s life debt—or how he got his blood stripes. He was clearly proud of them but didn’t provide details. Maybe it was a ‘fuck you’ to his home world that had shown him so little love or kindness. That they treated him like dirt but he earned their highest honor. They tried to break him but he won. 

“Hey, do you want anything?” She looked at him in his pilot’s seat. His face was lit by the console and what starlight passed through the viewport. 

“Like what?”

“More whisky? Kaffe?”

He handed her the glass again. “Nothing else on the menu?” 

She laughed. “That’s crude.”

“You like crude.” 

“Oh, I will never admit that out loud… At least not with actual words.” 

“Come over here.” His lop-sided grin appeared and she felt her heart skip. “Let’s see what else you’ll admit to.”


	4. Louder Than a Wookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some comparisons are better left unsaid.

Thanks to their erratic sleeping and disappearing into the cabin at random times schedule, taking the occasional shift on watch and the inability to decern night from day anymore, Leia sometimes slept in later than everyone else. 

Sometimes Han brought in a cup of kaffe, delivering it with a kiss good morning and maybe a little something more. Other times, he was caught up in repairs so she ventured out for her more stimulant on her own. One time she found him standing in the galley, slowly sipping his kaffe and smiling. 

“What’s going on with you?” She liked his mischievous side but it was also wise to be suspicious. 

“Apparently, Chewie and Threepio have been talking.” He handed her his cup and turned to get himself a new one. 

“I’m guessing by your tone that it wasn’t Falcon-related.”

“Threepio was concerned. He heard you when he was in the engine room this morning. Thought you were in distress.”

“Ah, I see.” She could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. It shouldn’t matter. Why be embarrassed that a droid heard her and didn’t understand? Honestly, for a protocol droid, Threepio understood remarkably little about humans. But there was also the issue of what Threepio might mention casually to someone else. 

“Don’t worry. Chewie straightened him out.” He couldn’t stop his out-sized grin now. “Told Threepio we were mating. And that we are louder than most when mating.” 

“Louder than most?” Now she was getting embarrassed. 

“I didn’t ask if he meant louder than most humans or louder than a Wookie.” 

She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “Oh, no.” She was laughing and cringing at the same time. 

He pulled her close with one arm and kissed her neck. “You’re gonna be the talk of the droid gossip sessions.” 

“You shouldn’t have told me. I’m going bite my lip from now on. Not going to make a sound.” 

He lightly bit the nape of her neck. “C’mon, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true.” 

She laughed. “Yeah. That’s not happening.”


	5. A New Nickname

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han lets the moment get away from him.

They were still at the stage when everything felt new. Even it wasn’t their first time, it felt like a discovery. A new sound, a new movement, a new response. 

It had been more than a week since they began their physical relationship and they’d made the most of their time. Slipping away throughout the day for their bunk, or a cargo hold or the cockpit, to be together, explore and delight in their touch. Their nights were often broken up between deep sleep and making love. They needed to feel each other almost constantly. Years of denial meant a concentration of physical need. 

It’s not that he had a favourite part of her body—he was pretty amazed and enthralled by the whole package—but it was clear from the beginning that he had a particular fondness for her lower back. The dip before her ass that was somehow supple and taut. The curves leading into her hips that were perfect pockets for his hands to rest. When he held her sides his fingers or thumbs could stretch to her lower back and it felt like she belonged to him. 

Fucking her from behind worked well for both of them—the angle, the thrust, the urgency—when they were in the mood. They’d even tried this particular position before. Lying on his back, she straddled him facing away and slid him deep inside her. It was a good position, a good view, but he didn’t expect to react so quickly. 

They were maybe only a few thrusts in. She had one hand between his legs massaging his balls while she moved up and down, not too quickly, just getting started. His hands were on her hips, thumbs supporting her lower back. He could feel her skin heating up under his touch. Her hair was loose, hanging low, swinging with her motions. He was lost in the view, her body, the sway, her flesh. She arched her back, leaning her head so the ends of her hair tickled his stomach, and let out a slow groan. 

That was it for him. Everything combined, letting himself drift with her movements and he was ready for release. It was almost a moment of panic and he clutched her hips harder and moved to quick, hard thrusts. 

“Ah, fuck! Fuck! Sorry!” He couldn’t pull back, couldn’t slow down. This was going to happen. “I’m gonna—now—fuck!” He even had trouble getting her name out, let alone warning her. “Leia, Lei—Leia—Lei—Lei—La!” 

He relaxed back onto the bed. His heart rate and breathing returning to normal. He felt strangely parched. He hadn’t quite decided yet if he was embarrassed about finishing before they’d barely started or just disappointed. 

She turned around to look at him. “Everything okay back there?” 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Got away from me.” He smiled. Not embarrassed. “I’m blaming you. Not my fault.” 

“Okay. Where have I heard that before?” She slipped off of him and laid beside him on the bed. “Did you call me Leila? Are you saying another woman’s name in bed?”

He turned to look at her, relaxed on the pillow beside him. Her eyes were bright, laughing, full of excitement and curiosity. No disappointment. Only anticipation. 

“Guess I should start calling you Leila to cover my tracks,” he said. He rolled onto his side to turn his attention to her.


	6. So Much Like Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia experiences a particularly bad nightmare. Han doesn't know how to help.

Because her heart was open, she let some of her grief escape. It wasn’t a conscious thought so much as an after effect of feeling comfortable, understood, in their happiness. Her guard was down and she let it slip out. 

Not that he was surprised by it. He recognized it. Knew it from the nightmares he’d witnessed, helped her through. The times he met her far-off stare, looking as lost as her home planet, with a hand on her shoulder, a stiff drink or a quick and distracting comment. But he was never exposed to the full force of her grief, mainly because no one saw it. Not even Leia. She kept it safely at bay, removed from all prying eyes, including her own. 

It was a deep sleep and he wasn’t quite out of it when he tried to stop her thrashing in a particularly violent nightmare by pinning her arms. “Take it easy. Calm down, Princess.”

She was awake, eyes wide, staring at him. “Let me go.” Her voice was calm. 

“Are you done hitting me?” His voice was groggy, joking but tender. 

“Let. Me. Go.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender and she jumped from the bunk, spinning back at him. 

“Don’t tell me to take it easy.” Her voice remained calm; her eyes enraged. 

He sat up, wide awake now and confused. “Okay.” 

He understood angry Leia. He was used to irritated and sometimes furious Leia. Even when he wasn’t sure what set her off, but always assumed it had something to do with him, he knew what to expect. 

Even on this trip, when so much had changed between them, they still argued. What the Alliance should do with old X-Wings and training new pilots. Why there was no point in trying for allies in the Hapes Cluster. Why they should or shouldn’t make better use of underground routes already in place. The best way to convince Lando they were on the up-and-up and he should help them. How to drink good Corellian brandy (if they had any to enjoy at the moment). Why anyone would choose to eat a tin of Toscan nuts when there was a perfectly good tin of dried tanga fruit right there.

But this one felt off, heightened, unpredictable. 

She paced the room. Her arms crossed tight across her chest, hands gipping elbows with nails digging in. “You can’t fix this. You think you can fix anything.” 

“That’s a problem?” He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and sat forward. 

“It’s arrogant.” 

“What?” 

“You can’t fix this. You can’t fix me.” Her pace was picking up. She wouldn’t look at him. “That’s not how it works.” 

“You had a nightmare. Come back to bed.”

“You aren’t listening!”

“I am. But it was just a nightmare. You know how this works.”

“You know what? Fuck this and fuck you.”

“Hey! I’m only trying to help.”

“That’s the problem! Or one of the problems. One of many problems.” Now she was pacing in such a small path she was almost spinning in circles. “It’s too much. You don’t have to see it. Over and over. And now there’s you. I can’t do this anymore.”

He stood up and stopped her pacing, grabbing her arms still clutched at her elbows. “Look, come back to bed. I’ll listen.”

“Don’t touch me!” She shoved him. Hard enough that he had to step back to keep his balance.

“What the fuck, Leia?”

Before he knew it, she was out of the cabin and down the corridor.

So much of this trip was new for Leia. She was raised to be prepared, reserved, to respond to people and situations based on protocol and training. She spent her life seeking control, doing what was expected of her, being who she was brought up to be. 

Since Alderaan’s destruction, since witnessing her home planet blow apart, her need for control, to keep everything contained, only grew. She convinced herself that letting a piece out would bring all the walls down. She locked everything away, tried to remain cerebral, logical, focused. 

Yet here she was, involved with a man who relied on the physical. He was all action, instinct and touch. She felt bruised (sometimes actual bruises) and open, losing sense of where their bodies stopped and started. She didn’t know she could feel so comfortable with someone, so in sync and aware. And now, suddenly, she felt afraid. Terrified. 

The only thing she could think to do was run. She had never run from a battle. She faced down Darth Vader and didn’t break under torture. But the thought of being touched, being loved or cared for by Han, filled her with fear. 

He waited a few minutes before following her into the lounge. He found her at the table, still littered with dishes from their after-dinner drinks. She was sobbing with her head in her hands. 

“Hey.” He stood nearby, not sure if he should approach, if he should get too close. When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Do you… want to talk?” 

“I told you to fuck off.” Her words were trembling, choked out between sobs. 

“Tell me what I did.” 

Her head still in her hands. “I told you to fuck off and you didn’t.” 

He didn’t have the proper tools for this one. They’d gotten so much better at this over the years, definitely recently, and this felt like they were back at ground zero. It was those first few months he’d spent with the Alliance when they dealt with constant miscommunication all over again. 

There was a part of his brain that knew he should approach the situation differently. But he went with his first instinct—defensive and irritated. “Are you ready to come to bed yet?”

She looked at him this time. Eyes red and puffy. Cheeks tear stained. She looked absolutely broken and like nothing he’d ever seen before. It made his heart ache and every cell in his body insisted that he rescue her from whatever was happening right now. She was in peril and he needed to save her. 

He was at her side in a few quick strides, his arms reaching to surround her. She leapt up, banging her knees on the table as she pulled herself back on the bench and away from him. 

“No!” She wasn’t sobbing anymore but clearly still agitated, and exhausted. 

“Tell me what I’m supposed to do here.” He was frustrated and could see her anger rising again. “Do you want… tea or something?” He was trying. Hopefully she could see that part. 

“I should have stopped it.” 

“Stopped what?” He tried sitting beside her on the bench but she flailed her legs, almost kicking him, to keep the space clear. He stood back up. “Alright! I get it.” 

“No, you don’t. No one gets this. Just me. This is all mine. I have to carry it. Now I have to protect you, too.” 

“Protect me from what? I can take care of myself, Sweetheart.” 

“From me.” 

He laughed. “You got a plot against me, Princess? Gonna kill me in my sleep? Is that what all that hitting was about?” 

She threw a cup at him that he not so easily dodged. 

“This isn’t a joke.” Her arms were crossed again, nails digging in. Tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve seen it. You’re like all the others.” 

“Look, you got to…” He didn’t know what she needed to do or what he should tell her. “Just stop whatever this is.”

“I can’t look at you anymore.” Her fingers left red marks along her skin. “I can’t do this with you. Leave me alone.” 

“What’s happening here? Where did all this come from? Everything was fine when we went to sleep.” 

Leia rocked in place as more tears fell. “This is bad. Very bad. We need to go. We have to go. Now. Are you listening to me?”

“There’s no place to go.” He tried to sound soothing. “We’ve got enough fuel to get to Bespin.”

She put a hand to her chest like she was trying to slow down her rapidly beating heart. “There’s something wrong at Bespin. I think I lose you there.” 

“You’re just freaking out cos of the Jabba stuff. Stop riling yourself up.” 

“I’m trying to tell you something important. I’m not hysterical.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Leave me alone! Why won’t you listen?” 

Now, he’s full blown angry, or at least the irritated that manifests as angry. “Fine. Whatever the Princess wants. I’m going back to bed.” 

He tried to sleep but was too agitated. While he understood that a nightmare brought this on, the severity of her response was new. She alternated between accusing him of something and trying to save him. None of it made sense. He was left with the nagging feeling that she was trying to break up with him. He didn’t know if they were actually a couple, or if this coupling would last in the real world, and she was already trying to dump him. He was not prepared for that turn. 

An hour or so later, she crawled back into bed with him. He was awake, not pretending to be asleep, but didn’t say anything or acknowledge her return. Yet, when she moved in close, silently snuggling up his side, pushing his arm so she could tuck in, he made room for her and held her as she fell asleep. 

He slept in fits and starts. Preoccupied about what happened, what it meant for them, and worried that he’d disturb her if he moved. She slept soundly and didn’t stir until morning.

He opened his eyes when he heard a soft, “Hey” and saw her soft brown eyes taking him in. He responded with a similar, soft, “Hey.” 

“Did you get any sleep?” 

He gave a slight shrug. “A bit.” 

Han still felt unsure about what he should do. She wasn’t in the same anxious state but, since he didn’t know what set her off last time, he worried he might do it again. 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I’m not sure I know what happened either. I was so scared. How is that possible? Scared during a nightmare, I understand, but it was after. I was so frightened, so sure everything was lost.” 

“Do you want to talk about it now?” That was a phrase Han had only started using since knowing Leia and he found himself using it more and more. 

“I don’t know if I can. I mean, I remember the dream—the nightmare—but I’m not sure how to explain it.” 

He wanted to ask if she was serious, if she did want to break up, but he also didn’t want to put the focus on him. It seemed especially tricky to admit any vulnerabilities when he was feeling so, well, vulnerable. Instead, he lightly traced patterns on her back, hoping that would sooth her. 

“I was on the Death Star, Vader was there, Tarkin. It started out as a torture dream. The interrogation droid was brought in, Vader asked his questions. I was terrified but it also felt kind of normal. I’d been through this so many times and what did once more matter? But then he wasn’t asking about the Rebel base.” 

Her voice broke off. She swallowed a few times, pushing back tears. He kissed her forehead to let her know he was listening, he was there. 

“He asked about you. Was it worth it putting you through all of this because of me? Was taking something for myself more important than your pain? Was my happiness worth more than your life?”

“How exactly was I in danger?” 

“We went to the bridge but it wasn’t the bridge. Alderaan wasn’t out the viewport and the room was filled with steam. I think it was steam. It didn’t feel hot but it was everywhere and there was an orange glow. You were there in cuffs. I tried calling to you but you couldn’t hear or were ignoring me. You weren’t far away but you didn’t respond. Vader kept saying, ‘You could have saved him. You were selfish. Now it’s too late.’”

“Probably just added me to your anxiety. All this is new so I’m suddenly lumped in with other things you cared about and lost.”

“Caring about you isn’t new. And this felt the same as the others. Didn’t feel like a dream. Felt like a memory.” 

“You have a memory about something that hasn’t happened?” 

“See, it sounds crazy when you say it.” 

“Right. It’s me saying it that sounds crazy.” 

She laughed and nuzzled closer to him. “I’ve never felt like that before. So distraught. I couldn’t stop crying.”

“You wouldn’t let me touch you.” 

“It’s all so hard to explain. I don’t understand half of it. I was overstimulated, my body was so charged. It’s like when I’m over sensitive after an orgasm. Except that’s a great feeling and this was a terrible one.” She looked up at him, tried to smile. “Touching anyone, touching you, was too much. My body couldn’t take it. My mind needed to keep you away. I don’t know. Maybe I thought I would hurt you.” 

“You seemed pretty furious with me.” 

“I think I was. I knew I couldn’t make you understand. I knew I needed to protect you but I didn’t know from what or how. It made me almost hate you.” 

“That’s not a good sign.” 

“I think it’s more that it had to go somewhere.” She hugged him tighter, hoping he understood she didn’t actually feel these things. “Or that I was feeling this much because of you so you deserved to feel it, too.” 

“I make you feel anger and hatred? Yeah, this still isn’t looking too good for me. I kinda hoped we were past most of that stuff.” 

“We are.” She propped her head up and looked at him. “I was referring to the good stuff. There’s something in my brain, maybe it’s survivor’s guilt, that makes me nervous to admit it but I’m happy here with you. With you, period. It feels good. You were right.” 

He pulled her in for a kiss. “Hmm. I was right. That’s worth celebrating.” Another soft, slow kiss. 

She ran her fingers over his chest. “And I have a habit of reacting inappropriately to emotions.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Ask anyone. After Alderaan, I didn’t want to, I couldn’t, stop and dwell on what happened.” 

“Not sure if stopping to deal with it is dwelling on it.”

“I didn’t stop and cry. I barely cried at all. I had to keep moving. Right after was easy because we had the plans, had to organize the fighters, destroy the Death Star. Then there was the celebration and evacuation. I joined Command, organized missions and supplies, fought with you. I kept busy, worked constantly, barely slept because then there were nightmares and all that time wasted when I could be defeating the Empire. I cried only a handful of times—you saw a few of them—but that was it.” 

“I always figured you cried on your own. In your quarters. Always kinda hated the idea of you alone and crying.” 

She shook her head. “Last night was the most I’ve cried. Maybe ever.” 

“And you think people judged you for it?” 

“I know they did. I wanted to punch everyone who told me it’s okay to cry. I know it’s okay. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t. Then I felt like I wasn’t grieving properly. I failed everyone. Planet destroyed, family gone and I wasn’t exhibiting enough grief and pain. It’s like everyone needed to see me in pain and destroyed or it didn’t count. I had to be the symbol of get up and fight and curl in a ball and cry at the same time. No matter what I did, people were disappointed in me. “

“What did you tell them?”

“Mostly said thank you. Like I was grateful that someone finally gave me permission to feel something.” 

“If it happens again,” Han search for the right words. “If you get this grief, fear thing again, what do you want me to do?”

“First of all, don’t call me hysterical.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, I regretted that one right away.”

“I’m not really sure. Wait to touch me. Listen more than talk.” 

“Was leaving you alone the right move? Didn’t feel right but… It all felt wrong, you know? I was doing it all wrong.” 

“Not sure what the answer is.” He didn’t want to run away. He wasn’t ignoring her or the situation. He wasn’t making light of it. He wanted to understand what he should do to help her. He was trying to prepare for the next time. Leia didn’t know if she had ever experienced such devotion before. It wasn’t loyalty to a princess, politician or even a child. It was loyalty to her. He could see her and her scars and wanted to stay. “Maybe we won’t have to find out?” 

She put her head on his chest again. He kissed the top of her head and continued to rub her back, waiting to see if they would fall asleep again or get up to face the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took the title from a C.S. Lewis quote about not knowing grief would feel so much like fear.


	7. One of the Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They discuss domestic duties and Han maybe goes a bit too far.

They were lying in bed, the lights above their bunk set to low. She was propped up on her pillow (the pillow was propped up by a selection of other similarly old and thin pillows from other bunks), reading a novel on the datapad. He was leaning against the wall, not too concerned about the state or quantities of his pillows, updating his repair log. 

This was the first night they didn’t tumble into bed and each other. They settled in, comfortable and close, feeling the warmth instead of the heat. 

Leia pulled the sheet up higher, noticed the state of it and poked a finger through one of the holes. 

“Do you know how I can tell you weren’t planning a grand seduction?” She held her finger and sheet up. “You didn’t make an effort to impress me with your décor.” 

“Sweetheart, my plan to impress failed if you had time to notice the sheets.” 

“Did these come with the ship? The towels? How old are they?” 

“None of that stuff came with the transfer. We acquired most of it from hotels and stuff.” 

“And stuff sounds suspicious.” 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe I should buy you new ones when we get to Bespin? Something to remember me by.” 

“No way. Never getting rid of these sheets now.” He looked at the state of them. “Should probably do laundry, though.” He rolled on to his side, propping his head on an elbow to look at Leia. “Ever done laundry, Princess?” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Suggesting you’ve never done your own laundry. Palace. Servants. Rebel bases.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Or cooked. Or bought your own food.” 

She turned back to her novel. 

“I’m gonna take your silence as confirmation.” 

“I would have tried.” She put her datapad down and looked at him. “No one let me. Then it was too embarrassing to ask.” 

“That can be tomorrow’s lesson. Laundry.” Her hair, tied in a loose braid, draped over her shoulder. Stray strands messily framed her face but still managed to look perfect. “Not sure if it’s a transferable skill cos this machine has been modified and recalibrated for parts but it works.” 

“So sweet. Teaching me how to do laundry.” She looked at him with her big brown eyes, upping the big and doe factor. She pouted her lips. “Will you teach me cooking next? All the domestic duties?”

She slid down in bed and on to her side, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes. 

“Not sure I know all of ‘em.” He tugged at her tank top. “But I’ll teach you everything I know.” 

She released a long exaggerated, almost purr. “Oh, baaaabbbbbyyyyy. Why are you so good to me?” 

He laughed. His smile wide, eyes squinting. “Guess it’s one of the benefits of being in love with you.” 

He almost mouthed ‘fuck’ but bit his lip instead. He rolled on his back, closed his eyes, hoping he could wait it out. He tried. 

“Are you?” 

He kept still, breathing deeply. He wondered if he should start counting. To one hundred? Would that be enough time? He opened his eyes but didn’t turn to her. 

“Yes.” 

Then it was her turn to wait, to wonder if she could count to one hundred. Words usually came so easily to her. She always prided herself on being able to talk herself in to, or out of, almost any situation. But words often frustrated her when it came to Han. She had difficulty processing what she felt and how to express it. But, since he broke his pattern by saying something that he only meant to act on, perhaps she could do the same. 

She considered rolling over him, pressing her body against his, pushing her hips in, bringing him inside. Tell him that she heard and understood him. Say she is trying to get to that place, too. 

But she knew, at that moment, that she wanted the warmth instead of the heat. Wanted to stay still and let it surround them. She lowered her head to his chest and held him tight.


	8. But Because You Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han learns that maybe Leia wasn't waiting as long as him.

Han returned to the cabin carrying two bottles of ale. He handed Leia one before taking his pants off again and crawling back into their bunk. 

They’d spent the morning in the lounge and cockpit, working on repairs, helping with the various projects they’d laid out for their weeks in flight, when they finally admitted they were more interested in each other and retreated to their cabin. They stayed in bed, moving around the bunk as they made love, talked and laughed. No matter where they landed, they were always in close contact, always touching. 

“Do you own underwear?” She was leaning against the long side of the bunk, tucked under the covers, her legs resting over his. He was propped up on pillows at one end, the sheets pulled up to his waist. 

“Sure.” He drank from his bottle then put it on the shelf beside him. “But seems pointless when I’m just gonna have to take them off again.” 

“You think so?” 

“Oh,” he nodded seriously. “I know so.” 

She was wearing one of his shirts, the sleeves rolled up many times, her hair in a long, messy braid. She held her bottle in her lap. “Have we already lost the mystery? Already so predictable?”

“I’m betting we have a few more surprises in us.” He massaged her legs, moving from thigh to calf and back again. “Still got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Even though it appeared to everyone else on the Rebel bases like they could never say a civil word to each other, talking had almost always come easily to them. They did fight a lot—that part was true—but they also quickly developed a trust. They were both broken, for different reasons and with different opinions on how to deal with it, and found a comfort and a release in that understanding. 

Their physical relationship was taking on the same form. Let it flow where it needed to flow and make it stop where it needed to stop. So far, they hadn’t discovered that limit. 

She shifted slightly to move her legs so he had better access. “Was Chewie annoyed that we’ve been hiding out here all day?” 

He shook his head. “Didn’t even see him out there. Think he’s happy for the downtime, too.”

Leia realized she didn’t know what the Wookie’s downtime might look like. She’d never seen him do anything other than fix things, play holo-chess or co-pilot the ship. 

“What’s your longest flight? Like this one with no planet-side stops or space stations.” 

He was used to her hypothetical, sometimes random, questions. It was a favourite conversation tactic for her and one she’d used the entire time he’d known her. Sometimes there was a point, or an end game she wanted to reach, but more often it was whatever popped into her head. 

“Think it’s gonna be this one.” He was considering her question carefully, not taking it lightly, enjoying the game. “We’ve lost the hyperdrive a few times and had to do sub-light but not usually so far out. And we didn’t have to keep so hidden. Not like now.” 

“So, is this closer to a heaven or a hell? Trapped. Endless repairs. Finite number of supplies and parts.” 

“Doesn’t sound so great when you describe it.” He nudged her legs with his own. “Got my ship, my best pal, my lady. Sitting in our bunk with a cold ale, probably get some naked time again soon. Where’s the problem?” He took a long sip from his bottle. 

She laughed. “Who knew you could be such a relaxed and patient man?” 

“Who me? I’m the poster boy for patience. Look how long I waited for you.”

“You keep saying that but I now have proof how long you can wait. If we haven’t had sex in a half-day you lose your mind.” 

“Hey, that’s here and with you. I had ages leading up to it.” He put his bottle on the shelf beside the bunk so he could resume rubbing her legs. 

“Ages? What do you consider ages?” She sat up in a bit straighter. “Do you mean the entire time you were with the Rebellion, nothing?” 

“Not the entire time.” He was concentrating on her foot now, pushing his thumbs into the sole for a deep massage. “A couple of minor things the first bit but then it just got messy. Wasn’t worth it.” 

“But I heard the stories.”

“I can’t help it if people want to tell stories,” he said, flashing his lop-sided grin. “Also, it’s possible I encouraged a few rumours. The important thing is I didn’t start any.”

Leia stared at Han. It didn’t happen often but she felt frozen, stuck, not sure what to say. 

“What’s with the face?” He could practically see the wheels spinning in her brain.

“I’m just shocked. I didn’t know. All that time.” 

“Because you thought I was working my way through the base?”

“Not in so many words.”

She drank from her bottle and only looked at him when he stopped rubbing her foot. 

“Hang on,” he said. “You’re not shocked because I didn’t but because you did.”

She looked at him but didn’t say anything. There was the tiniest of shrugs. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He let go of her foot completely. “When? Who? Someone on base?”

“No! You know I’d never do that. That was part of the issue with us. Back then. I was never going to get involved with someone on the base.” 

They had a brief stand-off, waiting to see who would speak next. It was a challenge that he couldn’t meet. Maybe he wasn’t as patient a man as he thought. 

“You’re not answering my question.” Now, he was sitting up straight. 

“It was when I went to Krynon,” she said. This wasn’t a conversation that she wanted to have, or that she expected to have, but there was something about it that made her want to laugh. Not in a mean way. There was something about his confusion that she found endearing. 

“I flew you there!” he said. “You extended the trip.”

“That was for genuine, Rebellion-related reasons.” She put her hands in the air like she’d been caught. “The meeting was cut short. We needed to reconvene the next day.” 

“What. The. Fuck.” He was shaking his head. And to be honest, looked like he might start laughing, too. But he didn’t want to lose his edge. Not yet. 

“I was probably burning-off steam,” she said “Trying to work through what was happening with you. Or not happening.”

“Probably?”

“We weren’t together. Not even close. And I thought you were sleeping with women on base.” She gave him a c’mon, you can’t be serious look. “You were heading out for a night of cards and you implied more.”

“I played cards and went back to the Falcon and waited for you. You did your diplomating and got laid.”

“Yes. This is true.”

“Was it the person you met? Part of your negotiations?” He did air quotes around negotiations. 

“Her aide.”

“For fuck sake, Leia.”

“I repeat. We weren’t together. I didn’t know your feelings. I didn’t even know mine. The war was picking up again and we were probably going to be remote for a long time.”

“So, you took the opportunity.”

“Yes.”

He was shaking his head in, to be honest, an overly dramatic fashion. “What if this aide liked to kiss and tell? Maybe there’s some juicy princess gossip out there.”

“No,” she looked down again. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I see.” He stared at her. “Not someone new.”

She looked at him and shrugged again. “He used to work in the Senate.” She was trying not to smile. He looked very cute when he was confused and trying to play it cool. 

“Right. So, what, a repeat offender. This made how many times?”

She held up three fingers. “Are you mad now that you didn’t take more opportunities? That they were just rumours?”

“No.” Now he was actually laughing. “I didn’t sleep with anyone because I didn’t want to sleep with them. Even on runs after a while. And I definitely didn’t want to sleep with someone and have you find out and think I didn’t care.”

“You can’t be mad at me, you know.”

“I’m not mad.” He put an arm behind his head as he stretched out. “Maybe a bit rattled cos… I don’t know.” He paused. “I was so deep into waiting for you. I thought you were, too.”

“Did you know you were waiting for me?”

“Not at first. But I can figure out the obvious sometimes.”

“Not me, I guess.”

“Clearly not you.”

She bit her bottom lip. They both knew this was a topic that would have sent them into a vicious fight not long ago. They would have fought about much less. Yet here they were, together, not afraid of their pasts, not denying there might be a future. 

“Ages, huh? How did you manage that?”

“I’m very self-sufficient.”

She sat back and gently prodded his hip with her foot. 

“Show me,” she said. 

He kicked back the sheets and they locked eyes.


	9. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight continues into their bed.

She sat up in bed pretending to read the datapad, refusing to look up as Han entered the cabin. He undressed—dropping boots, tossing jacket, slamming the locker door—making as much noise as possible. 

He crawled over her to get in the bunk, flopped down and pulled the blankets to his side with such force she had to yank back her share. 

“How long you gonna read? Can we turn the light off?” 

“I’m using it.” She didn’t look up for her datapad. 

“That’s why I asked how long?”

“I’ll let you know.” She pulled the blankets again, tugging them up to her chest. 

“What now?” He put his hands behind his head as he leaned into his pillow, affecting a relaxed look that no one believed. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to be so blunt about everything.” She kept her eyes locked on the datapad.

“Fuck, Leia. We can’t still be fighting about this. I already apologized.” 

“No, you didn’t. Shrugging and saying ‘whatever’ isn’t an apology.” 

“Still, best you’re gonna get.” 

“All I asked was that maybe—just maybe—sometimes when you expressed affection it didn’t sound like a holo-porn.” 

“You didn’t mind last night. Or this morning.” 

She sat up straighter, glaring down at him. “While we’re having sex is different. And I don’t need to hear it every time!”

“Getting bored, Princess? Already?” 

“Why are you so defensive? You’re acting like I’m criticizing your manhood.” 

“I got no worries about my manhood. And I’m pretty sure…” 

“Don’t say anything about me and your manhood!!” She was furious now. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. “I’m not referring to our sex life and it’s annoying that you reduce everything to fucking.” 

“Now who’s in a holo-porn?” He kept his voice calm to annoy her more. 

“You’re such an asshole.” She was genuinely concerned she might burst into tears. “I’m not even asking for romance. I’m asking you if it’s possible to not always be made to feel like that’s all you see or want!” 

“Right! Because saying anything romantic goes over so well!” Okay, not so calm any more. “Guess it’s a way to shut you up, though.” His voice took on a mocking tone. “Hey, Leia, did I tell you that I love you? You’re my own shining light? Something, something, only you?”

She took deep breaths, trying not to explode. “Fine! I’ll sleep on the bunk in the lounge.” 

He jumped up to stop her, blocking her way. Leaning over her with his arms on either side, he refused to move. 

“Leave me alone!” 

“No.” His voice was calm again but his jaw clenched. “Read. Go to sleep. Whatever. I won’t bother you.” 

She sat back, somewhat tentative, and picked up the datapad again. He laid back down, turning away from her to face the wall. 

She woke up the next morning to his touch. His hand on her hip, he kissed the back of her neck and slowly worked his way down her spine to her lower back. As she turned to face him, he stretched back up and she could feel him hard against her. He pulled her in for a kiss and she wrapped a leg around his hip.

He nuzzled in and kissed her ear, the nape of her neck, whispering softly, “Leila, my Leila.” 

His hands moved in light, tender patterns across her body.


	10. Dance, Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia remembers a family vacation, a favourite song, and a mission she learned something new.

“Ugh,” Leia rolled her eyes, making sure to exaggerate the roll for full effect. “Of course you don’t know that song. I keep forgetting how old you are.”

“Hey, wouldn’t matter how young I was. Never would’ve known that song.”

“You’re such a snob.”

They’d left their cabin in search of water, and then a glass of whisky, and settled into the bench around the game table. She was turned toward him with her feet tucked under his thighs.

They had hastily thrown clothes on in case Chewie was still up. She was wearing her favourite pullover that Han could no longer claim as his property, old leggings she’d turned into shorts and a pair of his socks that would have reached her knees if they weren’t slouching so much on her. She looked comfortable and at ease. He thought she looked extraordinarily sexy in his old and slightly ratty clothes. 

She was just as enthralled by his outfit of sweatpants, t-shirt and no socks but because they fit him perfectly, accentuating his trim form and wide shoulders. 

“Well, it was huge on Naboo the summer I was twelve.” 

She took a sip of the whisky. They’d developed the habit a long time ago of sharing a glass. In the early days, it was how she justified a drink or two when she was on duty, or soon on duty, or didn’t think she should indulge in anything too pleasurable. He understood that’s how her guilt of surviving Alderaan often manifested itself so he offered her the occasional drink from his glass and it became something that they did. 

“What were you doing on Naboo?” His legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His hands were folded in his lap. 

“Family vacation.”

“What? Your family? Doesn’t sound right.” 

“I know. It sounds like I’m making it up but it’s all true. Not a ‘we’ll call it a vacation but it’s mostly meetings and delegations and sight-seeing tours that are actually photo ops.’ An honest-to-goodness relax and enjoy each other’s company vacation.”

“Still suspicious.” 

“Well, technically, they were providing something like a last hurrah for my childhood.”

He winced, in a half-joking way. “There sounds ominous.” 

“In the royal household, things change when you turn thirteen. Traditionally, it meant you became a woman or a man in the eyes of the court but it wasn’t quite so regimented for me. More of a mini-adult with more responsibilities and an actual staff to handle my schedule and appointments.” Han winced again. “So, the Naboo trip was a way to let us relax together before I moved into the ‘every moment of every day scheduled’ phase.”

“Okay. I guess this is a nice family story. Is this a nice family story?” 

She wiggled her feet to give him a nudge. “Yes. As a matter of fact, it is a very nice family story. I had a great time on that trip. We played cards, read, went for walks.” 

Han liked watching her lost in a happy childhood memory rather than her usual lost in grief reaction. 

“And we visited a family, the sister of a friend of my father’s who died during the war. The sister had two daughters a little older than me and it was a lot of fun. I felt pretty cool hanging out with older teenagers! We worked out the dance routine together.”

“Cool and dance routine don’t go together in my mind.” 

She lowered her eyelids. “Yes, I imagine you were an exceptionally cool teenager.” 

He shrugged. “Somethings just come naturally.” 

She didn’t say, ‘oh please’ but the look on her face said it all. “What was your favourite song when you were twelve?”

“Didn’t have one.” He looked at her like maybe she was insane. It was certainly an insane question to ask him. 

“You were too cool for music, too?”

“I didn’t have a radio or a player. Means you only hear what other people play.” He took a sip and pushed the glass to her. “Saw a lot of live bands, though. Liked some of them but I was working more than listening.” 

“You were working at shows?”

“Stealing at shows. Drunk and distracted people are the easiest marks.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sending pieces in opposite and, to Leia’s mind, adorable directions. “It was still pretty easy to slip through a crowd then. Got harder once I got taller.”

Leia thought about Ansion, one of the first missions all four of them went on together. They were set to rendezvous with a Rebel agent who could provide them access to an Imperial hall of records. But when they landed, the agent was nowhere to be found and Rebel command wanted them to abandon the mission. Leia insisted they could find another way in. 

They staked out the building’s entrance, looking for a likely candidate. “There!” Leia pointed to a man who was older and slightly taller but Luke could pass for if no one looked too closely. 

While she and Luke debated how best to get his ID, Leia noticed, too late, that Han had followed the man into a street market. 

“Dammit! What is he doing?” They watched as Han sidled up close to the man at a crowded stall, everyone jostling for position. She was not hiding her anger at this impulsive act. “We’ll be lucky if we’re only thrown in prison.”

Han filled a bag with some fruit, paid, and made his way back through the crowd to them. He handed her the bag with a wink. 

She rolled her eyes at his dumb gesture and tossed the bag aside. Leia turned her back to Han and faced Luke. “Okay, that plan is a bust. What are our other options?” 

“Princess, I bought you a present.” His voice sounded strained, like he was doing his best not to yell. “Least you could do is look in the bag.” 

She glared at him with something close to contempt then turned back to Luke. “We only have a few hours to pull this off so we need to figure out something fast.” 

Luke picked up the bag and looked inside. He smiled, clearly impressed, and pulled the ID out to show Leia. 

“We’ll leave you two experts with your brilliant plans.” Han was looking directly at Leia. His voice remained calm but his eyes indicated otherwise. “I’m gonna go find a game.”

Leia never lost the worry (concern, frustration) that Han was going to pull something rash and possibly idiotic on missions. He was comfortable in chaos, sometimes thrived on it, and was used to making all the decisions by himself and for himself. After years of working together she trusted his instincts even when she hated his methods. That day in the market, as Luke showed her the ID, it was the first time she had to reconsider his actions and her reactions. Maybe she wasn’t always in the right. 

“Hey. Do you remember Ansion?” He looked over at her but didn’t respond. “You got the guard’s badge in the food market.” 

“Right. Sure.” He knew she was headed somewhere with this switch in topic. He waited to see where she landed. 

“Do you remember what you did that night?” Still no response. “You said you were going to find a game. Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you do anything else?”

“You should just ask the question you want the answer to.”

“Did you sleep with someone?” He didn’t appear angry but he was going to wait her out. She tried a more explicit version. “Did you have sex with someone?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone you just met?”

“Why do you want to know?” He hadn’t moved from his position—legs stretched out, hands folded across his lap—and his head turned toward her. 

“I’m curious how it worked?”

“Didn’t always work the same way.”

“How did it work that night?” She refrained from sighing. He wasn’t going to offer up any information until she asked the right questions. 

“Someone I knew.” She was about to ask another question but he cut he off. “And I paid for it.”

“Like...”

“Not a metaphor. I paid her for sex.” 

She considered his response for a moment. “And you already knew her so you paid her before? You had sex with her before.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever pay her again?”

“Yeah.”

“Recently?” Leia felt a sudden spike in her nerves. She really wasn’t thinking these questions through. 

“No.” 

She almost smiled but didn’t (though it was probably still obvious). “Did you do that often?”

“With her or in general?”

“In general.”

“Not a lot but enough.” He was still answering cautiously. Things weren’t going off the rails but he knew this could be dangerous territory. Or at least it has been with other women. 

“Never felt risky?”

“I went places I knew, wore a condom, got tested.” He was often amazed that someone who could be so reserved, closed off, careful when it came to her own life, could still be so open and curious when it came to others. When did he first feel that gaze on him? When did he start wanting it rather than running from it? “And honestly, felt a lot less risky than the alternative. No one expects anything more than the agreed upon exchange. Nice and simple.” 

Han remembered that night. It was fun but he was distracted. Even Zahna could tell. 

He was angry with himself for how he reacted earlier. It had been years since he’d picked a pocket and wasn’t sure if he could still do it. He was a nimble, slight kid the last time he tried. As it turned out, he knew what to do without thinking. It came natural to him. He was feeling kind of proud that he pulled it off and a bit excited by the prospect of impressing her. She needed something done. He did it. Seemed like the perfect, easy combo. 

But then she didn’t even look in the bag. She looked at him with disdain, like he was mocking her mission, like he was an idiot who couldn’t possibly comprehend the importance of what they were doing. She didn’t have time for him. She didn’t think he was capable of anything expect flying a ship fast and creating unwanted turmoil in her life. 

He got angry because his first response was disappointment. He was mad at himself for caring. Mad that he was hurt by her dismissiveness. Zahna asked where his head was at—he was clearly lost in thinking about something else. 

“Nah, Darling. Just a day full of shit like any other. Maybe you could make it all go away.” 

As he sat on the bench in his ship, next to the woman he somehow let himself fall in love with, he realized the only time he allowed someone to care for him, offer him comfort or kindness, the only time he was willing to show a hint of vulnerability, was when he paid them money to do so. Figuring out whether he was paying them for sex or kindness was maybe too much for his brain at the moment, though. 

“Does it bother you I’m asking so many questions?”

“No. Does it bother you I’m giving honest answers?”

“No.” She liked the honest answers. It was a new twist in their relationship. She had been as responsible for their circular, infuriating, avoiding the obvious conversations as Han. They both avoided anything that might force them to consider their own actions and desires. 

She was in the lounge when Han returned very late that night or very early the next morning depending on your perspective. She wasn’t waiting for him, exactly. Having trouble sleeping was fairly common for her and it just so happened that time she was kept awake knowing she’d be unnecessarily rude to him. 

“How was your game?” 

He jumped at the sound of her voice and spun around. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light and the sight of her on the bench with her datapad and tea. 

“Broke even.” 

“Chewie got back earlier. He didn’t play?” She was wrapped up in a thin blanket she pulled from her bunk.

“Not that kind of game.” He walked over to her and leaned on the side of the bench with arms crossed. “Your mission?” 

“Worked like a charm.” She smiled at him. He understood it was her form of apology. “Luke was in and out in no time.” 

“Got everything you need?” 

She nodded. 

“I’ll get started on the exit visas. We can leave at first light when they open the docks.” 

“Don’t you want to sleep?” 

“Nah.” He started to walk away. “We should get moving. Never good to stop in one place for too long.” 

Leia wiggled her feet beneath his thighs again. A quick check-in to say I’m okay. Are you? 

He gave her a quick wink. 

Leia smiled back. “So, do you want to see the dance routine?” 

“Yes. I definitely want to see the dance routine.” 

She crawled over his lap to leave the booth, squeezing through. In a gravelly, low voice she said, “Excuse me.” He gave an almost comically satisfied grunt as her stomach pressed against his chest as she slid past. 

Standing in front of him, hands on hips, she tapped her toes. 

“What are you doing?”

“Counting in.” 

He smiled. “Of course. Sorry to interrupt.”

She had to start over a number of times, always from the beginning, as she hummed or sang lyrics in a low voice. For the first while she concentrated on the steps, dancing almost robotically, until she figured out the rhythm. Then she incorporated arm movements and the occasional swing of her hips. 

Han remained in position—legs out, hands folded—but now cheering her on, sometimes throwing his head back in laughter, a wide grin stretched across his face. She was a powerhouse and unstoppable in battle or under fire but this was the woman he loved having fun, enjoying herself, not feeling judged by the world around her. The notion that Leia wasn’t physical or comfortable in her body was gone and this was the first time he had seen her move so freely outside their bunk and apart from their physical relationship. 

She stopped, slightly out of breath, hands back on hips. She was smiling, her eyes bright and laughing. “That’s all I can remember.” 

He crooked his finger, beckoning her closer. She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.


	11. Arrival

Han watched her from just inside the doorway while she finished coiling her long braids around the back of her head. She was dressed in her Alliance-issued, Hoth-approved uniform. All the buttons, right up to her neck, were closed. The quilted vest was back on. 

“You know, no one hear cares what you wear,” he said. His arms were crossed over his chest and he leaned against the wall. He wanted her to stay the relaxed, freer version of Leia just a bit longer. 

“We’re heading back to the real world now,” she said. Turning to look at him, she tried to look stern and serious. In truth, she looked mostly sad. “This vacation… Fantasy… I’m not sure what to call it… is over.” 

“This was real.” 

She quickly looked away and tried to busy herself with her hair, straighten her vest. 

He moved into the room and sat on the edge of the bunk. Taking both her hands, he pulled her in closer. “This is real.” 

The cabin was back in order. All their clothes—his clothes and pieces of his clothing that she claimed—were put away. Earlier that day, the cabin had looked lived in. Like people made a home in this small space, like it was his and Leia’s home. Now there was little trace of their weeks together. The bed was made. The ‘fresher organized. Even the ring he gave her on a whim when she found it in an old box was gone from its shelf. 

“We should get to the cockpit.” She held his hand but kept her eyes lowered.

“Look.” He kissed the palm of her hand. “We have at least one night here. Let’s make the most of it. Tell me what you want to do.”

She wasn’t ready to look at him. She felt flustered. More than she had since their first few hours away from Hoth.

“Go out for dinner? Casino? You can try out your new sabacc skills.” He pulled her in closer still. “Whatever you want. Let me treat you like a Princess.”

“Opposed to just mocking me for being a princess?” She smiled slightly despite her best efforts. 

“Something like that,” he said. 

He could see her dark eyes cloud over. She was stressed and moving toward angry. He knew all the signs, recognized each step, and wished he could prevent it. It was an awful feeling knowing that you were causing pain for someone you loved. That he couldn’t fix it. Not this time, anyway. 

He’d made a mess of things. He should have dealt with Jabba years ago but he stayed with her. He cared about the rebellion, and defeating the Empire, but he stayed for her. Because of the way she made him feel, made him feel period. That was something he had stopped doing long ago. Now that selfish act was endangering them all. His death mark was too high, there were too many bounty hunters, and it was too obvious he loved her. 

He only knew how to move forward. He’d get the Falcon fixed, get her safety (or as safe as one could be in the middle of a war), then find a way to get Jabba off his back so he could return to her. He had a few ideas. They all seemed pretty far-fetched but he’d pulled off some pretty unbelievable stunts over the years. It was about more than just him this time so one of them had to work. 

“What exactly are we celebrating? Acting like everything is fine? We have a night here, you’ll drop me with the fleet and then you’re gone.” She could feel tears coming on and swallowed hard to fight them off. Her voice was small when she finally spoke. “Maybe it’s just me. I don’t want you to go.” 

He looked at her for what felt to Leia like a long time. Why hadn’t they talked this earlier? Really talked about it. They’d both made comments, acted casual about it all, pretend it was a long way off, or maybe wouldn’t happen at all. 

She let herself get wrapped up in his confidence that being together was a good thing. They didn’t know what was next, if there was a next, but they could be together in the present. Exist together and for each other. She agreed to it. Told herself it was a safe, defined period to explore. Let herself want and enjoy it because she could return to ‘normal’ later. 

Now, when they were close to dropping out of sub-light speed and about to land, it felt like time had run out. This was her place, her person, and this might be the end. 

He lifted her chin slightly so she would look at him. “I will always want more.” 

“Don’t say that.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream. 

“I will always want more. If I can, I’ll...” 

She shook her head, trying to look away. “Stop talking.” 

It felt like there was a fight about to brew. He clenched his jaw. 

“Make me.” 

She kept her tears at bay, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.


End file.
